Madeline considered this. “Colleen wouldn’t have the time to help you. She’s busier than anyone, always making appointments and meeting with church members. I’m not sure how they would survive without her.”

  “She does seem very efficient,” I said, nodding.

  “I wish I had been here to help you,” she said. “I really love to do that kind of work. But with poor Sarah gone, I was feeling so befuddled. I had to take a few days off to be with my family and just sit and think about life. And death. Sarah was . . . important. She was like Colleen in that way. She took care of so many details.” She shook her head, looking bereft. “I’m lost without her.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “If there’s anything any of us can do to help you, please let me know.”

  Her eyes teared up. “You’re all doing so much. I’m very grateful.”

  “I was thinking, since I can’t get into the sacristy for a day or two, I might help Billy and the guys who are working on these pews. I’m not sure how far along they are, but I could help remove the kneelers from some of them. What do you think? Does that work for your schedule?”

  “I’m so glad you asked me about my schedule, because I do have one.” She smiled brightly. “In fact, I have a master plan for all of the pews, and I can go over it with you.”

  “A master plan?”

  “Yes.” She laughed lightly. “I call it my pew plan.”

  I grinned. “That’s hilarious.”

  “I have my moments,” she said, and managed another smile.

  The old Madeline was coming around, and I was glad to see her.

  We sat down in one of the pews and went over her plan. It was elaborate, with diagrams and charts included. Every single pew was given a number and an assignment, listing where it would be going and the time frame involved. For instance, Madeline wanted to put several pews along the walls of the narthex in case people wanted to sit while waiting for friends or for a ride. But those pews couldn’t be moved into the narthex until we had reconfigured that space to include a ticket counter as well as a gift shop at one end.

  “We have twenty-five rows with two pews in each row. That’s fifty pews. That’s a lot. I really do have a plan for all of them, but I wanted to wait and see how they’d fit in with the final art installations.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “I was also thinking about selling some of them. It would make a statement to see a church pew in someone’s living room, don’t you think?”

  “Honestly, I do.” I thought for a moment. “Whatever you want to keep for the museum, my crew and I would be happy to strip and refinish them for exterior use.”

  “That’s excellent, thank you,” she said, and tapped something into her tablet. “In the meantime, you’re free to remove the kneelers from the first twelve rows.”

  “That works for me.” I lifted my power drill out of my toolbox and set it down on the seat of the pew.

  “Wow, you’re ready to go,” she said.

  I grinned. “Always.”

  We were interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps tip-tip-tapping on the marble floor. I looked up in time to see Whitney Reid Gallagher dashing down the aisle right toward me.

  I groaned. “Oh hell.” I gave Madeline a quick smile and said, “I’ve got to go check on something, but thanks so much for helping me out with this.”

  “No problem,” she said, then saw Whitney and smiled. “Oh, hi, Whitney.”

  Madeline had no idea how much Whitney annoyed me, and I wasn’t about to tell her. Not while she was still basking in the glow of Whitney love. No doubt it would turn sour one of these days.

  I rushed down the aisle toward the central platform.

  “Stop right there, missy,” Whitney said with an arrogant sniff. “I want to talk to you.”

  “You’ll have to make an appointment.” I kept walking.

  “Hold it!” she cried out. “I’m going to report you.”

  I laughed out loud, then turned. “Report me to whom?”

  “I happen to be the newest member of the Lighthouse Cove Historical Society, so everything you do in here is subject to my approval.”

  The Historical Society was a lovely organization, and the few people who worked there were always helpful.

  “Oh, Whitney, that’s wonderful,” Madeline said.

  Whitney didn’t bother to acknowledge the compliment, just hurried to catch up to me.

  “You realize you’re being ridiculous,” I said. “You will never have approval power over my work.”

  She thrust her shoulder angrily. “Well, somebody should.”

  “Nice try. The Historical Society does a lot of good work, but interfering with my work isn’t one of their aims. So you’re just lying.” I turned and walked away. It was for her own good since, whenever I got this close to her, I had the biggest urge to smack her. And she’d love to have me arrested for assault and battery.

  More than anything else, I didn’t want to have a knock-down, drag-out fight in front of Madeline, who didn’t know our history.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide,” Whitney taunted me.

  “You’re a twit,” I said under my breath.

  “I heard that!” she shouted.

  Ears like a bat, I thought as I headed for the hallway. I began to run, knowing I could lose her around the back. Her stiletto heels wouldn’t be able to keep up with me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle a fight. But I was just so tired of her crap.

  How had she and Madeline become friends? Madeline had exquisite taste in so many things, while Whitney was just tacky. She was proof positive that all the money in the world couldn’t buy good taste.

  I couldn’t spend time worrying about it, though. I just had to get away. I got to the other side of the church, then snuck out through the north transept. Once outside, I walked to my truck and climbed into the cab. Pulling out my phone, I called Wade.

  “I saw you make your escape,” he said, chuckling.

  “I’m not proud,” I said. “I just had to get away from her.”

  “She’s a piece of work, all right.” He lowered his voice. “She just started berating Sean for moving the boom lift a couple of inches and scaring her out of her wits.”

  “Thankfully, she has no wits, so it’s no great loss.”

  “Ooh, snap,” he said.

  I winced. “Sorry, that was harsh, but seriously? She’s yelling at Sean?”

  “Yeah. It’s still going on.” He held up the phone. “Can you hear her?”

  “I can hear her.” I shook my head. “What does she want? Why is she here?”

  “She just said something about ‘pulling the plug on Shannon’s project.’ ”

  “She’s lost it,” I said. “It’s Madeline’s project and they’re supposed to be friends.”

  “I think she believes you’re still in the building, so she’s deliberately yelling loud enough for you to hear her.”

  “Oh, brother.” I shook my head. “Look, I’ll come back and get her out of there.”

  “No way,” he said. “This is the most entertainment we’ve had all day.”

  I chuckled. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ll give her another five minutes and then call the police.”

  I laughed. “I love you, Wade.”

  “I’m a lovable guy.”

  As everyone in town knew, Whitney was married to Tommy Gallagher, the assistant chief of police. And he could usually be counted on to show up and escort his wife home, like he’d done on that first day, right after Sarah was killed.

  I checked my wristwatch. “Okay, if you think you can handle her, I’m going to head on home.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Nine a.m. in the basement.”

  “Right. Have a good one.”

  * * *

  * * *

  After tossing Robbie’s crocheted fish toy across the living room for him to catch and return, I paid some bills and then spent time going over crew schedules and an updated rundown of work to be done on a daily basis. Finally, I closed my tablet and walked away from my job.

  The sun was still out, so I went to my garden and began clearing the weeds and checking on the water lines. Then I harvested some veggies for a salad.

  I felt so virtuous after putting my salad together that I called Bella Rossa and ordered a pizza to go with it.

  The restaurant was two blocks away, so rather than waiting for the delivery guy, I walked there. I needed to move, needed to get out of the house, if only for twenty minutes. I had things on my mind and I wanted to talk to Mac.

  I expected to hear from him at some point tonight, but I knew it would be late when he got back to his hotel room. It was only nine o’clock in New York City, and he would invariably be going out to dinner with his agent or editor or a few of his city friends. He always stayed out late because he liked to walk around the city and take in the scenes and the views. He would call me when he got back to his hotel.

  But darn it, I really needed to talk to him, especially after discovering that hidden door and finding the tunnel underneath the church. I couldn’t wait to tell him about it. He loved that kind of stuff, and I figured that once he saw it for himself, he would probably put it into a book.

  After all, it would be the perfect spot to hide a bomb.

  I marveled at how close we’d gotten over the last year, ever since he moved in with me. We had been close before, but living together was something altogether different. Neither of us had ever lived with anyone before—besides our families, of course—so this was something new for both of us. And we knew we had something pretty great together. But whenever he left town, I always got a little anxious, wondering if this would be the moment he realized that he wanted something more exciting than small-town life in Lighthouse Cove. And me.

  I hated feeling so needy. I really wasn’t, not usually. I told myself to get over it. Maybe I would call Chloe and give her the chance to tell me the same thing. It sounded a lot better when Chloe or one of my girlfriends berated me for being so dumb rather than privately moaning and groaning over it. But that still didn’t stop me from doing it.

  * * *

  * * *

  At Bella Rossa, the hostess greeted me by name, and each of the waitresses I saw waved to me. I knew them all, not only because I came in here at least once a week but also because my uncle Pete owned the place.

  I walked over to the bar to order a glass of wine while I waited.

  “You want a glass of wine while you wait for your pizza, Shannon?” the bartender asked, as though he’d read my mind.

  “Sure. Thanks, Ray.”

  “I just got a case of Pete’s private reserve Pinot Noir. I think it’s his best yet.”

  He poured a glass and set it in front of me.

  I took a sip, then grinned. “Wow. I think you’re right.”

  “Enjoy,” Ray said, and moved down the bar to serve another customer.

  Besides owning the Bella Rossa restaurant and wine bar, Uncle Pete also owned a vineyard and winery in nearby Anderson Valley. It was nice to have it all in the family.

  “Why, it’s Shannon. Hello, dear.”

  I turned at the greeting. “Flora. Hello. How are you?”

  The flower lady wore a pretty pink sweater over black wool pants. This might’ve been a special occasion.

  “Oh, I’m just dandy, dear. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Do you eat here often?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s the best. I especially enjoy it because I went to school with your uncle Pete.”

  “That’s right.” I nodded, remembering. “You went to school with my dad, so you must know my uncle Pete, too.”

  “I do. They’re both such nice men.”

  “I’d have to agree with you,” I said, smiling. I reached for my wineglass and glanced around. “Is Buck with you?”

  “Oh, yes. He’s parking the car.”

  I scanned the bar area, then leaned a little closer. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “How long have you known about the tunnel under the church?”

  “Oh dear.” She glanced around as well. “Buck told me about his run-in with you and Chief Jensen. I believe he was more frightened than he let on, but we’ll keep that between the two of us.” She paused and gazed out the front window for a moment. “I’ve known about that tunnel for more years than I can count. We always kept it a secret because of Lavinia.”

  “Lavinia?” I was surprised. “She wouldn’t let you tell anyone?”

  “Oh, no, it’s not that.” She waved a hand in frustration. “I’m not explaining it very well. You see, back when I first started working for the church, Reverend Bryant was the head of the congregation. He was Lavinia’s father.”

  I blinked. “Wait. Her father was the reverend here? And then she married the next reverend?”

  “Yes. The problem was, Reverend Bryant, her father, was a stickler for propriety. A lovely man to his congregation, but I must confess, he showed little tolerance when it came to Lavinia. He considered her incorrigible and punished her regularly.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Punished her?”

  She sighed. “If it were just spankings, that wouldn’t be so bad. But he liked to use his belt.” She paused, then added, “And occasionally, his fists.”

  “But that’s terrible.”

  “Yes, it was. He used to grab her arms and shake her. She always wore long sleeves, even on the hottest days of summer.”

  “Because he hit her? Bruised her?”

  She gave a vigorous nod. “To get away from him, she would hide out in the tunnel under the church. She loved to read romance novels, and she’d hide them, along with a flashlight, in a hole near the basement door.”

  “Oh.” It all made sense now. “Did she tell you about the tunnel?”

  “No.” Flora looked slightly abashed. “One day I followed her.”

  “Was she angry?”

  “I think she was relieved that someone else finally knew. She swore me to secrecy and I kept my promise. Until recently.”

  “With Buck.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told him, because now it seems that several more people know.”

  I couldn’t help that. “So that’s why you never talk about the tunnel.”

  “We didn’t want Reverend Bryant to get wind of it.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t know about the tunnel?” I asked.

  “Absolutely sure,” she insisted. “If he had known, he would’ve done something really awful to Lavinia.”

  “Like what? Kill her?”

  “Maybe.” She scrunched up her face in revulsion. “I wouldn’t have put it past him. Once, he hit her so badly, she lost consciousness. She wound up in the hospital.”

  “And they didn’t report it to the authorities?”

  “Lavinia was very good at covering up the truth.”

  “Where was her mother?” I asked.

  “According to Lavinia, her mother had died years earlier.”

  “You sound skeptical,” I said.

  She made a tsk-tsk sound, then said, “I’m sure Lavinia wouldn’t lie about such a thing. But I never met the woman, so I can’t really say.”

  “And nobody else came to her rescue?”

  “I don’t think so. You have to understand, Reverend Bryant was the beloved leader of the local church. Who would believe he’d do something like that to his own daughter?”

  “Who indeed?” I murmured. “Is he still around?”

  “No,” Flora said, looking troubled. “He developed dementia and died almost twenty years ago.”

  It probably wasn’t charitable of me, but I couldn’t be sorry he was gone. “And Reverend Patterson took his place. And met Lavinia. They fell in love and were married soon after.”

  “A happy ending,” I said lightly.

  “And he is a lovely man,” she said, smiling.

  “I’m glad.” I took a sip of my wine. “Does he know about the tunnel?”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, dear. Nobody knows about the tunnel but a select few. We would like to keep it that way.”

  “All right.” I frowned at her. “But Chief Jensen knows. And now so do I.”

  “Yes, I know.” She exhaled heavily. “I suppose it won’t stay a secret much longer. But Lavinia will be very upset if she finds out that everyone knows. It has always been her refuge.”

  “I understand.” I wasn’t about to get Flora busted if I could help it.

  “Here’s your pizza, Shannon,” Ray said, placing the square box on the bar.

  “Thanks, Ray.” I turned to Flora. “I won’t say anything.”

  She smiled and patted my arm. “I would be very grateful if you wouldn’t.”

  “I appreciate you telling me the story.” I took the last sip of wine, then stood and reached for my pizza box. “I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

  Buck walked into the bar. “Hey, Shannon. You joining us for dinner?”

  “Hi, Buck.” I smiled as I noticed once again what a big, good-looking guy he was. “I can’t do it tonight. I’m taking my pizza and heading on home.”

  “Okay.” He grinned. “Enjoy.”

  “You too. See you tomorrow.”

  I walked home with my pizza, contemplating everything I’d learned tonight.

  I couldn’t believe that those two reverends didn’t know about the tunnel, especially since the secret panel was right there in the sacristy. The sacristy was their special room, filled with everything they wanted or needed. It was where they changed into their vestments and prepared themselves for mass. And where they spent time meditating and praying.